Recently, I saw January 2018 referred to as a “very long year.” This seems right on so many levels, and so far February is shaping up to be another long year in month form.
Last week I submitted a story to the Well Family column of the New York Times. My only hope was that the rejection would come swiftly. About 45 minutes later I got a response from the editor, who said she loved it but thought it should have gone up at Christmas, and then asked me a lighthearted follow-up question about the piece. That was… not the rejection I expected. I resisted the urge to ask her if she rejects everyone by pretending to love what they wrote.
Thanks to those of you who encouraged me to go ahead and put in the referral request with the school for an evaluation for Lorelei. We had the meeting today and everyone was in agreement that we definitely need to do the assessment. There are a lot of pieces that need to come together for it to happen. For instance, did you know that in North Carolina schools an anxiety diagnosis has to come from a medical provider? So diagnoses by psychologists, LCSWs, etc, don’t count. My eyes have rolled permanently into the back of my head. Yay for having to get multiple people to coordinate information.
I probably won’t write too much about this, since it’s really Lorelei’s information. I’ll give a brief update at some point, though.
After the appointment with the school, I had my annual physical. It was one of the “take everything off and for some strange reason arrange your clothes on a chair in such a way that your underwear aren’t showing, despite the fact that the doctor is about to be all up in your business” appointments.
We discussed my continued issues with acid reflux — something that never really went away after my pregnancy with Rowan. Recently, I had been talking with my sister, saying that I assumed everyone frequently had issues with feeling like food was stuck in their throat and causing a lot of pain until it finally worked its way down. She was like, “Yeah. No.” So I asked my friends, and they said the same thing. A couple of weeks ago it was bad enough that it triggered my (admittedly sensitive) gag reflex and made me puke all over myself.
Esophageal inflammatory issues run in my family, so I left with a bright, shiny referral for an endoscopy. Also, she told me to cut out caffeine. She said they would probably schedule it in the next 4-6 weeks, so when I got back to work I gave the gastroenterologist a call and they said, “How does Friday sound?”
So, in less than 48 hours, I get to go be sedated and have a tube stuck down my throat. It’s like the world’s worst keg stand.
My sister swears the whole thing is really the best nap I’ll ever have.
And I really, really want a nap. Rowan has been sleeping like shit still, because somehow I won the infant and toddler sleep lottery. Last night, after refusing to go to sleep he woke up just a couple of hours later and tossed and turned on top of me until Zach got into bed. I was sobbing and he took Rowan to sleep in the kids’ room. Unfortunately, I think my body has forgotten how to sleep soundly for long periods of time, but it was better than nothing.
The nights were long and cold and scary,
Can we live through February? (Dar Williams)
The longest shortest month. My mood has been up and down, with some direct correlation to my sleep or lack thereof. The nights (most of them) when I don’t get enough quality sleep, my thoughts spiral faster and darker. I wonder how, exactly, I’m supposed to make it through the day, even less the rest of the winter. I have the tightly wound feeling at my core and want to crawl out of my skin.
When I get a bit more sleep, the thoughts and spirals and hopelessness are just regular winter feelings and not as all-encompassing.
Either way, I’m ready for Spring. I think. Though, that brings its own set of issues.
A winter machine that you go through and then
You catch your breath and winter starts again
And everyone else is spring bound (Dar Williams)